


A Splash of Color

by gluupor



Series: AFTG Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Bingo 2020, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, M/M, Oblivious Neil Josten, Prompt: Free space, or possibly flowershop/tattoo parlor AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluupor/pseuds/gluupor
Summary: A tattoo partlor/flowershop AU featuring Oblivious Neil who Definitely Hates The Florist Next Door
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: AFTG Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814353
Comments: 33
Kudos: 558
Collections: AFTG Bingo Blackout 2020 - Cupcakes, All For The Game Bingo 2020





	A Splash of Color

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Cupcakes' attempt at a Bingo Blackout, for either the Free Space square of the Tattoo parlor/flowershop AU space. It goes along with fornavn's [amazing artwork](https://fornavn.tumblr.com/post/625288450617262080/flowershoptattoo-au-for-the-aftgbingo-this).

“Ugh,” groaned Neil, stomping into Fox Color while shaking his foot to dislodge the loose soil on his sneaker. “That guy is the _worst_.”

Allison looked up from her sketch laid across the reception counter. She smirked as she took in Neil’s exaggerated annoyance. “Trip over one of our neighbor’s plants again?”

“There needs to be a barrier,” declared Neil. “He’s practically blocking our entrance.”

“I don’t think we can legally block the sidewalk,” said Dan, who was currently lounging on the couch in the waiting area.

“And _he_ can?” scoffed Neil. “There should be a line, at least.”

“We might have some sidewalk chalk,” suggested Dan. “Renee?” she called.

The buzzing from behind one of the curtains momentarily paused. “I think it’s in the bottom left drawer behind the counter,” Renee’s voice drifted out to them.

Allison leaned down to rummage through the drawer. “Why do we have sidewalk chalk?” she asked, muffled from her position.

“Why not?” retorted Dan, idly fiddling with one of her many ear piercings. “We used to draw advertisements in front of the store.”

“Why’d you stop?” wonders Neil.

“Rain,” said Dan, scrunching her nose.

“Fair enough,” allowed Allison, emerging and dumping three thick chalk sticks on the counter, pink and green and yellow.

Neil eyed the colors appreciatively. They were sure to piss off the asshole next door.

“What’s your problem with the flowers, anyway?” asked Dan. “I think they’re nice.”

“They’re hardly _flowers_ ,” said Neil. “Mostly greenery.”

“And roses,” added Allison.

“Only black ones,” protested Neil.

“Also red,” said Dan, a grin slowly appearing.

“It’s just so boring,” argued Neil. “Flowers are supposed to make a place more colorful, not more reminiscent of the bedroom of a sad emo teenager.”

“Ah, I see,” said Dan sagely. “You’re embarrassed at the reminder of once being a sad emo teenager.”

“I wasn’t emo,” said Neil, affronted.

Allison made a sound of disbelief. “We still remember when you got here,” she pointed out. “You can’t fool us.”

“That wasn’t emo,” argued Neil again. “That was… nondescript.”

“Scrubby,” corrected Dan.

“Drifter chic,” supplied Allison.

“Depressed,” added Renee, still behind her curtain with a client.

“Hey,” said Neil. “My style served a purpose.”

Growing up on the run with his mother, he’d learned early on not to call attention to himself or stand out in any way. Drab, grey, loose-fitted clothing were his staples. Even after his mother died and his father was caught by the FBI and Neil no longer had anyone to run from, he’d kept to his established style. Until he’d stumbled into Fox Color because of their HELP WANTED sign and somehow been adopted by the tattoo artists who owned the establishment.

His first tattoo had been small, a fox on the inside of his wrist, curled around one of his many scars. It had been Matt’s suggestion after watching Neil self-consciously tug the sleeves of his shirt down after catching someone looking curiously at the scars he endeavoured to keep hidden. It had been more than a little nerve-wracking at first. He was sure that seeing the patch of color on his skin would send him into a panic, remembering his mother’s heavy fists. But it had the opposite effect. Waking sweaty and gasping for air in the night, he was calmed by seeing his little fox reminding him of when and where he was. He was safe.

More tattoos had followed—vibrant flowers and animals climbing up both forearms until none of his scars could be easily seen—as well as a complete wardrobe turnover. He was alive, no one was after him, and he was allowed to be seen. He could take up space and he had worth, and wouldn’t let himself fade into the background ever again.

Which was why the flower shop next door bothered him so much. Flowers were supposed to be bright. Each color was represented in myriad forms, with limitless hues. Sunshine yellow daffodils contrasted with butter yellow daisies or canary yellow Black-eyed Susans. The different purples of lavender and lilac and indigo. The riot of shades of tulips and lilies and orchids. There was so much variety, but the florist next door seemed to only know of flowers that were such a deep red they looked like blood or so dark purple they appeared black.

The shop itself was full to bursting with plants, spilling out onto the sidewalk. Neil didn’t think he’d mind so much if they were proper flowers, adding their own spill of colors to Fox Color’s own storefront.

Plus the guy who owned it was awful, making Neil’s stomach cramp every time they interacted. He was unfriendly and blank-faced. He rarely responded to any of Neil’s forays into conversation, but he had an uncanny ability to cut straight to Neil’s insecurities with a well-chosen phrase or two. He acted like he was above it all, despite Neil’s efforts to get him to just _react_.

Allison was giving Neil a strange look when he pulled himself out of his reverie.

“Here you go,” she said, pushing the chalk across the counter at him. “Knock yourself out.”

“Not literally,” Dan broke in. “Don’t give him ideas,” she chided Allison.

“I’m not a child,” huffed Neil.

“Your childish feud with the asshole next door says otherwise,” teased Allison. “What is it about him, anyway?”

“He’s the worst person I’ve ever met,” said Neil.

Dan scoffed. “You’ve met people who have _literally tortured you_ ,” she stressed.

Allison rolled her eyes and gave Neil a shrewd look. He unsuccessfully tried to avoid her gaze. “ _Oh_ ,” she said in realization after a few seconds, a smile pulling at her lips.

“What?” asked Neil, feeling both testy and uncomfortably seen.

She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll tell you later.”

Dan looked up and caught her eye. “What?” she echoed Neil.

Allison waved a hand carelessly. “Methinks the maiden doth protest too much.”

“No,” said Dan instantly, before giving Neil a closer look. “...No?”

Neil decided he absolutely didn’t need to hear the remainder of the conversation and grabbed the chalk, leaving behind Allison’s smug grin and Dan’s sputtering.

Somehow, in the time since he’d entered the shop, the small pot of deep red flowers he’d tripped over earlier had righted itself and moved even closer to blocking Fox Color’s entrance.

“Fucking goth flowers,” muttered Neil, kicking over the pot and glaring at it. “I’m going to draw a line. Keep on your own damn side or we’re going to have a problem.”

The sound of a throat clearing had Neil snapping his head up, flushing slightly when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Andrew,” he exhaled, as the florist next door gave him an unimpressed and expectant look.

Neil swallowed. Looking at Andrew always made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t understand. He hated the way Andrew could steal all the words from his tongue just with a steady look. Neil tried not to notice the way his hazel eyes looked almost gold in the sunlight, or how the corner of his usually stoic mouth tipped up almost imperceptibly when he looked at Neil, or at the tendon along his neck that Neil had the absurd, inexplicable urge to bite.

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his shop door. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Neil looked down at his feet and back up at Andrew. “You’re taking up too much space,” he blurted.

Andrew’s gaze was heavy and knowing; Neil squirmed. “You want me to back off?” asked Andrew.

Neil was pretty sure he was missing something in the subtext, but obviously he wanted Andrew to back off. Which was why it was so surprising his mouth blurted out, “No!” before he could stop himself.

Andrew looked at him without moving for another minute, before nodding to himself and pushing up to stand properly. “I have something for you,” he said, leaning down to pick up a plant pot. He brought it over to Neil and pushed it into his hands. “It reminds me of you.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a barely-there smirk.

Neil tore his eyes away from the way Andrew’s biceps bunched unfairly when he crossed his arms again, and examined the small, green plant he’d been given. “It’s a cactus,” he deadpanned.

“If you take good care of it, it will bloom,” said Andrew.

“Oh yeah?” said Neil sarcastically. “What color are the flowers? Let me guess: black?”

“Orange,” replied Andrew.

Neil gaped at him for a moment before he laughed in delight.

Andrew cleared his throat. “It’ll clash with your everything, but I’ve noticed that’s not a concern for you.”

“Thank you,” said Neil, feeling like he was finally on the precipice of understanding.

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Andrew hoarsely, pulling on his sunglasses. “You’re a disaster.”

“I think you like it,” teased Neil. When Andrew didn’t deny it, Neil’s smile grew wider. “I think you like me.”

“I thought I was smarter than this,” admitted Andrew, taking Neil’s free hand and pulling him forward.

“It makes sense,” Neil mused, letting Andrew pull him in his wake. He didn’t care where Andrew was taking him, he was happy to follow. “Your life clearly needs some color.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).


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